


I Do As You Say

by KaleidoScopeOfIce



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, pixlpit - Fandom
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Marking, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Forced Masturbation, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoScopeOfIce/pseuds/KaleidoScopeOfIce
Summary: Somebody's visiting and Jack's nervous as fuck





	I Do As You Say

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this a bonus E-rated mini story for my fic "Broadcast Yourself...Or Die".
> 
> To avoid confusion, I'd recommend reading the first chapter of "Broadcast Yourself...Or Die". If not, then enjoy some smut featuring Jack and Robin's dark persona!

Jack was on edge.

Of course, he had every reason to be. His best friend was currently visiting him today. Although for the time being, he was anything but a friend. Jack had hoped that it would simply be Robin he would be hanging out with, but instead, it was Deadpixl who arrived at his doorstep. The cold, calculated officer of YouTube. Jack wondered why he was here. Usually, he only made his presence known when he was expecting updates on his channel, but Pixl surprisingly didn't have a logical explanation for dropping by. And so Jack was left feeling tense, treading on eggshells and praying that he wouldn't embarrass himself in front of the editor. It was true, Jack feared this side of Robin but...there was something about it that excited Jack in a strange way. Pixl carried a heavy sense of authority and power, and his hidden personality remained to be a bit of a mystery. Jack knew that YouTube had transformed him into a cyborg of sorts, thus resulting in Pixl not expressing too many emotions, but the commanding atmosphere that constantly surrounded the officer never failed to send shivers down Jack's spine. In both a bad but good way. Still, Jack was curious as to why Pixl had chosen to visit him now. The editor not once asked him about his progress on recording videos. In fact, he seemed almost tight-lipped. Like he was hiding something, which only fueled Jack's anxiety further. But the Irishman couldn't help but take notice that as the day wore on, Pixl seemed to be ordering him around more and more.

They were currently sitting in the dining room, with Pixl reading a book, while Jack was scrolling through tumblr on his phone, desperately trying to get his mind off of the awkwardness of the situation.

“Sean.”

Jack automatically flinched at the use of his real name, looking up from his phone to give Pixl his full attention. “Yeah?”

“I require a glass of water, please.”

It was...strange to hear the officer use his manners, even when issuing a command, but Jack complied. He shocked himself though when he replied with “Yes sir.” It made Pixl's multicolored eyes briefly glance up from his book.

Heading into the kitchen, Jack tried his best to keep a steady hand as he filled up a glass with ice cold water. He wouldn't lie, having Pixl address him in such a way did something to him. Like it was some kind of itch being finally scratched. He returned back to the dining room, and nervously approached Pixl's side, holding out the glass. The editor calmly placed his book down, before receiving the drink and bringing it to his lips.

Jack did his best not to stare, but it was pretty much useless. His eyes watched how Pixl's lips parted, how his adam's apple bobbed with each careful gulp of water. Pixl emptied the cup within seconds, and noticed that Jack was still standing beside him.

“Do you...need anything else?” Jack found himself asking. He was shuffling his feet, growing more anxious...wanting to be commanded again.

Pixl set his emotionless gaze onto the Irishman, before slowly rising from his seat. He stepped away, and pointed a hard finger to the chair.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Jack did not hesitate. He ducked his head, shyness overtaking him as he sat down in the chair Pixl had vacated. He couldn't stop the quiet gasp that left his mouth as his chin was firmly grabbed and pulled up, forcing him to look directly at Pixl's unsettling stare.

“If I'm not mistakened, this is something you are enjoying,” the editor stated. “You crave authority. Is that right, Sean?”

Jack swallowed. “N-No.” His palms were quickly growing sweaty.

“...I would advise that you not lie to me,” Pixl replied, gripping Jack's chin tighter, causing the Irishman to slightly wince. “I have no intention of harming you, but should you continue to waste my time with false answers, I will be forced to loosen your tongue for you.”

Jack swallowed again; his throat beginning to turn dry as he tried desperately not to squirm in his seat. Pixl's eyes practically stared right through him, and they were too bewitching to look away.

“Are you going to obey me, Sean?” the editor asked.

Jack managed to nod...and nearly jumped out of his skin when Pixl's free hand shot forward and grabbed ahold of his neck.

“I want a verbal response.”

“Y-Yes....Yes, sir,” Jack croaked. As soon as those words left his mouth, Pixl released him, and took a small step back.

“Good. Now, you are going to touch yourself for me...” Pixl ordered, straightening his posture. The command alone made Jack's skin erupt in goosebumps, and his erection was becoming harder to hide.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Jack reached for the button on his jeans.

“No. You will keep your pants on, until I tell you to remove them.”

Jack almost found himself whining, but did as he was told, letting his hand crawl to the embarrassing tent in his jeans, before pressing down and earning himself a burst of dry friction that briefly rattled his nerves. Pixl watched the other carefully, his eyes following how Jack's hand caressed himself, palm eagerly rubbing against the bulge in his pants. Jack's hips twitched ever so slightly, wanting to buck further into the touch, seeking more of that addicting pressure.

A rare smile graced Pixl's lips. He could see the desperation in Jack's hooded eyes, as they struggled to stay on his commander. The Irishman was continuously biting his lower lip. Frustrated whines came out of him, mixed occasionally with a groan when he pressed down harder against his straining cock.

“Does this frustrate you, Sean?” Pixl asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Jack groaned out his response, rubbing harder and arching his hips into his own touch.

“Do you want to touch yourself even further?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, please, sir...”

“Very well then.”

Pixl almost chuckled at how quickly Jack worked to get his fly open. There was a heavy sigh of relief, as the Irishman took his thick cock out of the tight confines of his boxers, with an excited hand already wrapping around it and beginning to pump.

“Pace yourself, Sean,” Pixl commanded again, leaning against the table. Jack whined high in his throat in response, but complied. He lessened his strokes, doing his best to take it slow, hand shakily gliding over the heated skin. But Jack's gaze never left Pixl's face, watching the editor with his mouth parted open as soft moans fell from his lips.

“How do you feel, Sean?” Pixl questioned.

“F-Feel good. Fuck, it feels so good,” Jack let the words come tumbling out, his dick giving a heavy throb at how Pixl narrowed his mismatched eyes at him.

“Do you enjoy my presence in this situation? Do you enjoy knowing that I am watching your every move?”

“Yeah,” Jack sighed, squeezing just a bit on the downstroke, his hips twitching. Pixl took a step forward, reaching a hand out and placing it on the back of Jack's head. Almost gently, he tilted the Irishman's head down.

“Focus on your work, Sean.”

Jack trembled, only a bit disappointed that he could no longer look at the other, but did as he was told. He watched his hand sloppily work his cock, seeing a drop of precum bubbling at the tip, watching as it spilled over and drooled down his shaft.

“You take pleasure in watching you touch yourself, don't you, Sean?” Pixl asked, his rough fingers scratching and gripping lightly at the hairs on the back of Jack's head.

“Y-Yeah.”

“You probably wish that it was my hand working your aching cock. Or better yet, if it was my mouth instead.”

“Oh f-fuck yes!” Jack moaned louder, grasping his heated length harder. His arousal was growing by the minute, aided by the sticky, lewd sounds of his hand working faster. He knew Pixl had told him to pace himself but goddammit, it was so fucking hard. His eyes suddenly drifted to the editor's hips.

Okay, that was definitely a bulge.

Jack couldn't stop himself from reaching out with his free hand, really wanting to grab it, but was stopped by Pixl.

“Hands off,” the editor growled, pushing Jack's hand away. He surprised the Irishman though when he started undoing the belts to his pants. “Your mouth will have to do.”

Before Jack knew it, there was a thick, heavy cock was being shoved into his mouth.

“Behave for me, and you will be rewarded,” Pixl ordered, beginning to thrust his hips forward. Jack could only groan lightly; a weak noise leaving him as the editor proceeded to fuck his mouth. He quickened his pace on his own erection, squeezing with every upstroke to the head, feeling how it throbbed in his palm and how Pixl's throbbed on his tongue, the bitter tang of precum assaulting his tastebuds. Jack's quiet moans were constant, though muffled. The Irishman closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of being used as a fucktoy, letting his hand work himself faster.

He was so close. _So_ damn close.

Pixl's breath came out in light stutters, the editor doing his best to remain composed. But it was hard to do such a thing when your dick was being continuously enveloped and sucked by that wonderful wet heat. He watched how sinfully Jack took him. Lips perfectly wrapped around his aching cock. And he watched how furiously the Irishman worked himself, noticing the tension spiking in his shoulders, in his back, watching how it steadily arched off of the chair.

Jack breathed hard through his nose, unaware just how fast his hand was moving. All that mattered to him in that moment was Pixl's cock in his mouth, the pleasure building, coiling, it was too much, _oh god..._

He felt the warm droplets of his cum hitting his shirt, dribbling down his now-cramping hand. He stole a few more selfish strokes, savoring those last few seconds of bliss, before sagging further into his chair. His mind was so foggy that he almost didn't register Pixl pulling his dick out of his abused mouth, sighing in content as Pixl's cum painted his face, strings of it hanging off of his lower lip and chin.

“You did...very well, Sean,” Pixl managed to catch his breath.

Jack gave a lazy grin; tongue poking out to lick up the others mess.

“Th-Thank you, sir.”


End file.
